A Time for Thanking
by MGMK
Summary: Thanksgiving with the Pierces...and the Lopezes and the Hudsons, Hummels, Changs,etc.


**Disclaimer:** Don't own. Just borrowing.

**Author's Note:** Hi guys. If you celebrate the holiday, Happy Thanksgiving! If you don't then Happy Maya-Fic Day! I wanted to get this out _on_ the actual holiday and at a reasonable hour so I can go eat so this is fresh off the presses and unedited so I _own_ these mistakes. Hopefully you guys can overlook the typos for now. (I'll fix 'em all to the best of my ability later). Anywho, I hope you all enjoy and here are some things I'm thankful for: my readers. Seriously. Thanks for reading you guys. Enjoy!

* * *

_The image on the screen shakes a little bit, but very soon Mercedes and Sam's smiling faces fill up the window, the space behind them dark and quiet._

"_Okay, you guys," Sam speaks first, looking incredibly giddy for a man who probably hasn't had a proper shower in about a week, "We're actually kind of breaking international laws or something to make this video so the finished product had better be worth it."_

"_Yeah, Kurt. You're my boy and all, but I'm not down with staying in some Chinese torture camp," Mercedes adds. "By the way, I've had it up to here with noodles. No offense to the Changs."_

"_But anyway, we're here in this monastery, waiting for all the papers to come through and if we're lucky," Sam says, his smile and eyes growing softer as he speaks, "by week's end, we'll have a son."_

"_So, that's what we're thankful for this year," Mercedes says, leaning her face closer to Sam's. "For our families, for our friends, and hopefully starting our own."_

***o*O*o***

"Please welcome, ladies and gentlemen," Ellen says, looking directly into the camera, "The absolutely stunning, Santana Lopez."

Santana steps out from behind the placard, smiling brightly as she waves at the enthusiastic audience. It's here third visit to the _Ellen DeGeneres _ show so she should be more at ease, and she would be, if it weren't for the little conversation she'd had with her agent backstage just prior to starting this interview.

Santana's just finishing up her text – _Getting ready to go on now I'll be home tomorrow morning. Hugs and kisses to my two favorite girls. I love you_ – when the green room door opens and in strides Justin, wearing a look she knows won't lead to good news.

"Santana," he says and nothing more, tucking his phone back into his suit pocket. "So, I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?"

"Don't fuck around, Justin. What's up?"

Justin sighs, rubbing at the neatly trimmed stubble on his face. "The good news is Ellen would love nothing more than to talk about you and Brittany and the baby and home life and all of those things you women get all ditzified about."

"So what's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that you have an album coming out and none of your fans particular care too much about the fact that you're a new mom with a wife. Unfortunately, a large chunk of your fans are guys. Horny guys. Horny guys who'd buy your albums to wank off to because they're imagining you and Brittany doing all kinds of deliciously pornographic things to one another. I don't like it and you don't like it, but it's the truth. Also true, most guys don't dig stretch mark talk or breastfeeding biopics – unless they have a very specific fetish that is. Now, as much as it pains me to say this because I love that little girl almost as if she were my own but we're going to have to shelf the Maya talk for this interview. Point blank. Period."

Now, Santana's not one of those mothers – at least she doesn't think so – that gushes about her children and she's not one of those wives who rave about their significant others, but, they are a major part of her life and Brittany and Maya are both something she's immensely proud of.

Thus far, it hasn't been an issue with her career.

She doesn't want it to be one now.

"I, uh, I gotta tell ya, Santana. I was listening to your album the other day and…whew," Ellen says, her eyes dancing comically, "I had to take my socks off."

Santana laughs along with the audience before replying. "Yeah. When we were working on the tracks, we kind of made a conscientious effort to make them a little risqué. Not that my first two albums were bubblegum pop or anything, it's just this one is-"

"_Smokin'_," Ellen supplies, perfectly on cue and the audience cracks up again as Santana nods amicably.

"Meh," she says with a shrug, "Blame it on the hormones."

"That's right," Ellen says, and Santana's eyes widen because she's forgotten herself, "You were pregnant the duration of writing this album. Maybe that's the secret. You think I should try it?"

"Sure," Santana answers, playing along, hoping that Ellen will save her.

"Now, I won't pry too much because we don't have a lot of time left," the comedienne says, "but how are the old ball and chain and the little munchkin?"

"They're great," Santana answers, smiling in that dreamy way that she does as the screen behind them displays their most recent public family photo – Santana laughing at something Brittany's just said and leaning into her wife's side as Brittany holds Maya's hand while the toddler walks atop her feet – and the audience all awws and coos, making Santana feel slightly bashful. "We're great. It's crazy Ellen, because every time I think I'm done – you know, that I've loved as much as I possibly can – they do something that just pushes it to another level. It's like I fall in love all over again every single day."

"Well that's just…precious," Ellen says, as always timing the whole thing perfectly and making the audience crack up, even though she's being completely genuine. The woman holds up Santana's CD and looks into the main camera. "Don't forget to pick up Santana's latest album. It's in stores now and available for download from any of the digital music stores. I promise you guys you won't be disappointed …unless maybe if you're a nun. Stay tuned, more with Miss Santana when we return."

The audience claps until while the cameras roll into the commercial space and Ellen turns back to Santana, setting the CD on the table between them. "They're pulling on the reins again, huh?"

Santana winces, tapping her microphone to make sure it's switched off. "Is it that obvious?"

"Maybe not to most," Ellen replies kindly, "But, you forget, I kinda know you."

"I know," Santana nods, then shrugs, keeping her voice quiet. "I thought we were part this, you know? When they finally passed Pike's Law and made gay marriage legal nationwide, I thought it'd make it easier. Now it's like they want to shove me back in the closet."

"They might try," Ellen says sagely with the wisdom of someone who's been there before. "They tried it with me and, honestly, it's an easier road for all parties involved. But, in the end, I just had to be me. Plus, really, what closet can hold Ellen DeGeneres?"

Santana laughs loudly and Ellen smiles, glad as she pats the young woman on the shoulder. "You'll figure it out."

"You think so?" Santana asks worriedly, timidly.

"I know so," Ellen assures her, just as her production manager gets their attention for cues.

***o*O*o***

"_Hello my Glee family," Rachel almost shouts at the camera, posing dramatically before turning to adjust Finn's arms in a mirrored pose._

_She gets back to the camera, "So, we had prepared a musical number for this very clever Thanksgiving video – I'm very impressed Kurt – but unfortunately Finn's come down with this dreadful cold. His hoarse voice is very sexy though," she adds as an aside and Finn's ears heat up behind her. "Nevertheless, his singing is a little more than suspect at the moment so instead I've prepared a solo. Now, I'm usually incredibly adept when it comes to locating the proper song for the proper occasion but I was at a loss here because there aren't very many Thanksgiving-themed songs that aren't, you know, gospel songs and Mercedes once said that Aretha Franklin cries anytime I try to sing anything with soul and I wouldn't want to upset her so I changed by approach, and decided to instead sing a song about what I'm thankful for and then I had the perfect song, with new and improved lyrics."_

_Finn, the dutiful husband he is, presses play on the remote and a few seconds later the music filters in._

_**There you rest**_

_**With all the rest**_

_**Of my accessories on my night stand**_

_**Your red or yellow**_

_**And like a good fellow**_

_**Sometimes you get lost in my mess**__**But when school girl pigtails won't do**_

_**And I need to control my 'do**_

_**You're the only one I can count on…**_

_**My head band…**_

_**You're my head band…**_

Santana starts fast-forwarding the video and Brittany frowns, mid-head nod.

"What'd you do that for?" Brittany pouts, trying for the remote but Santana quickly keeps it away – no small feat what with Brittany draped all over her. "That's my jam."

"We are not listening to that ridiculous song," Santana tells her matter-of-factly, trying to resist rolling her eyes. "Sometimes, I really question your taste in music."

"Can't we just listen to the first verse?"

"Nope."

"The chorus-"

"Nuh uh."

"The bridge?"

"Britt, this song is horrid," Santana laughs, finally stopping the video when Rachel's done making her singing faces. "How come you like it so much?"

Brittany shrugs, settling back against the couch but no before pulling Santana's legs across her lap. "Isn't that song like a metafork for oral sex?"

Santana almost laughs, just barely managing to rein it in. "No, Britt. That would be _your_ song about the cup."

Brittany thinks on that one, her hand idly trailing along the skin of Santana's thigh as she does so. "Oh yeah," she says at last, remembering. "Speaking of cups," she continues, sliding that hand underneath the hem of Santana's short, dangerous, "I haven't said 'what's up' to mine in a while."

Santana's lips quirk in a lazy smile. "You said what's up to it last night if I'm not mistaken."

Brittany only lets her hand travel higher. "Like I said, a while," she smirks, pitching forward so that Santana lies back against the arm of the couch, Brittany following after. "Maybe we should get reacquainted," she murmurs, nimble hands starting their torturous journey upwards as her lips meet Santana's.

Santana drops the remote.

***o*O*o***

Santana's getting ready to pick up Brittany from the airport – her wife had gone to New York a quick sec to help Mike with a small choreographic disaster – and she's already running a little late due to Maya's newest habit of stripping off her clothes faster than Santana can get them back on (she's pretty sure Maya got that one from Brittany).

Anyway, this newest development means that Maya must be present and accounted for at all times when they're about to go out. Otherwise, it makes going anywhere on time completely pointless.

So that's why Maya's sitting on their bed behind her, gazing at her mother's reflection with rapt attention as Santana puts on a bit of make-up.

"Pwetty," Maya says, pointing.

And Santana blinks, concentration suddenly broken from applying her lipstick. She smiles at Maya. "You think Mommy looks pretty?"

Maya nods, her curly pony bouncing along obediently.

"Aren't you a charmer?" Santana says, turning around and moving to cap the tube before thinking better of it. "Here. Let Mommy put some on you, baby."

Two quick strides and she's where Maya's at, sitting neatly atop their comforter. "Now Maya will be pretty, too," she says, leaning to apply just a little bit but she stops short, realizing how bad that sounded.

"Actually, Maya, listen to Mommy, okay? This…" she says, gesturing to the tube, "…is nice and everything but it doesn't make you pretty. Being nice and kind and a good person are what really makes a person beautiful," she explains, hoping on some level hat it sinks in.

But, Maya's still eyeing the tube so Santana guesses her lesson about true inner beauty will have to wait for another day.

***o*O*o***

_Brittany and Santana stare at the camera for about five seconds, smiles plastered on their faces before Maya – seated between them – starts to fidget._

"_How come I isn't flashing, San?" Brittany asks through her smile and Santana cracks up, chuckling cutely before she speaks._

"_It's recording, Britt-Britt. Kurt wanted video."_

"_Oh," Brittany says, smiling sheepishly before diving right in. "Well, hi guys."_

"_Hey guys," Santana adds._

"_Say hi, Maya," Brittany instructs, looking down at her daughter before pointing o the camera, but Maya merely frowns._

"_Who?" she asks, looking at the camera, suspect. _

"_Oh," Brittany says, and then explains. "Your aunts and uncles. We're making a video for them Pumpkin. Now say hi."_

"_Hiyeeee," Maya say, now grinning extra big. She's a natural when it comes to the camera. "I Maya."_

_Brittany laughs adoringly and Santana smiles, hugging Maya to her._

"_I think they know, Princess," Santana says, looking back at the camera. "So, obviously Britt and I are thankful to have a super smart-"_

"_Super cute," Brittany adds._

"_Baby girl," Santana finishes, squeezing Maya one more time. "This last year with her has been great and I look forward to many more."_

"_Lots more," Brittany agrees. _

"_You wanna go Britt," Santana says, turning to her wife who smiles bashfully._

"_I'm thankful for Santana," Brittany states, looking at her wife tenderly, "My wife. Who makes me feel incredibly loved and appreciated each and every day."_

"_Aww," Santana murmurs, "Thanks babe. You make me feel the same way."_

_They smile at one another for a moment, getting caught up like they tend to do before Brittany breaks out of it._

"_Whoa," she says, "I can almost feel Puck rolling his eyes at us."_

"_Okay," Santana starts, getting back to the video, "So this is the part where we talk about how we're thankful for our careers and our home and all of those completely trivial things because I'd be happy living in a box as long as I have Britt and Maya."_

_Brittany snorts. _

"_What?" Santana says, somewhat defensively. "I would."_

"_Okay," Brittany relents. "But it'd have to be a pretty big box."_

"_**Anyway**," Santana says, "My point is: As long as I have my family and friends, I'm good. So, I guess I'm **also **thankful for you guys. Even Finn. A little bit."_

_Brittany nods, distractedly, as Maya clamors into her lap, begging for attention. "Yeah. What she said."_

"_Beeyuh," Maya says, squishing her mother's cheeks together and then laughing at the result. "Mama," she giggles, then squeals when Brittany tickles her in retaliation._

"_Alright guys," Santana says, reaching for the camera remote, "This is Mrs. and Mrs. Brittany S. Pierce; over and out. Wave bye-bye, Princess."_

"_Bye-bye," Maya giggles, shrieking again when Brittany blows a raspberry against her cheek._

***o*O*o***

"So…what are we making?"

Santana spins on the spot, recipe cards still in her hands and almost dies on sight at the cuteness overload she's now experiencing.

Brittany, wearing an apron that says _Practice Safe Eating- Always Use Condiments _, has Maya hitched up on her hip, the little girl wearing pig tails and a chef's hat and a little apron of her own that reads _Mommies Little Helper_.

"Britt," she says warmly, her eyes smiling even more than her lips, "What did you do?"

"It's our first _real_ Thanksgiving together as a family so we want to help," Brittany explains. "Don't we Pumpkin?"

"Yesh," Maya lisps as they both move closer to Santana.

Brittany gives Santana a kiss and a quick little pat on the bottom where Maya can't see. "So, what's cookin', _Darlin'_?"

"Well," Santana drawls coyly. "I don't really have to make much because Mami and Papi are coming, plus your Papa Pierce is bringing a bunch of stuff."

"And Mom's bringing her famous Jello Mold Surprise."

"Yes," Santana's smile falters a bit, "There's that. Anyway, that basically left the pumpkin pie and macaroni and cheese for us."

"Excellent," Brittany gushes. "That's right up our alley. I'm the cheesiest person you know and we have a live-in pumpkin right here," she adds, bouncing Maya a little. "It'll be a piece of cake."

…

Or not.

"Britt?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you eating the shredded cheese again?"

Brittany swallows audibly. "No."

"Britt."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm already shredding more," Brittany rushes to say, showing Santana her grating skills. "See?"

"I'm about to put you in lock down with Maya."

Maya, bored after about ten minutes of "cooking", earned herself a playpen sentence by burying both hands into the pumpkin pie mix.

Brittany thought it was hilarious of course until in the next second, Maya started spreading the stuff on the kitchen counter.

That wasn't _quite _as funny.

"I'll be good. I promise," Brittany says, holding up two fingers to pledge her solemnity then adding a third and waggling her eyebrows at her wife.

Santana laughs in spite of herself. "Okay, Britt. But one more thing and I'm putting _you_ in timeout."

***o*O*o***

_**A short while later…**_

Jamie's the first to arrive, carrying two bags and looking completely windswept.

She's about to make her way over to Maya, the little girl still happily oblivious in her playpen when she notices her sister standing in the corner and pouting at the wall.

"Britt?" Jamie asks, putting the bags down on the coffee table as she approaches her sister. "What are you doing?"

Brittany hesitates. "Thinking about my actions."

"What actions?" Jamie asks with a grin.

She loves her sister-in-law sometimes.

Brittany's lips twist, reluctant. But she relents.

"Pinching my wife's butt while she's bent over and holding hot pumpkin pie."

***o*O*o***

"_Hi everybody," Mike says, rushing along, the handheld moving with him. "I can't talk really long because I'm trying to catch my plane which I was totally on time for but then security made me late because apparently my taste in footwear makes me a terrorist or something."_

_Mike's frown turns into a smile suddenly and he says a polite hello to someone off-camera. "Sorry. Stupid airport security. Anyway, I'll make this really quick. I'm thankful for my family and I'm thankful for you guys, my friends. And I'm thankful for Glee club because it's when I first started embracing the awesomeness within – as Sam likes to say. Seriously, though, I love you guys bunches and I hope you all have a really cool Thanksgiving."_

_The camera shakes as he turns it away, Mike's shoes coming into focus for a second before he turns it back toward himself. "Oh, I almost forgot. I'm also thankful for my new girlfriend, Tameka. Yes, you heard right. Mike Chang gets down with the swirl now."_

_Mike laughs at himself._

"_Okay, That's really it this time. Love you guys. Bye."_

_The video goes black._

***o*O*o***

Maya looks up from her toys and throws her arms into the air, gesturing grandly with a big smile.

"Uncy Ito!" she exclaims, glad when Angeles scoops her up into his strong arms.

"Hey Miss Pretty Girl," Angeles says, holding her close. "You miss me?"

Jamie taps Brittany's arm, watching Maya nod cutely in answer. "Why Ido?"

"Oh," Brittany says, still turning over the couch cushions, "It's Ito. You know, like Angelito." Jamie nods in understanding. "It's shorter," Brittany goes on to explain. "Plus, my brother-in-law wasn't too fond of being called 'Uncle Anal' all the time."

"You got that right," Angeles comments, catching up to the convo. "What's up big sis?" He faces Jamie. "Little sis."

Jamie rolls her eyes. "You're older than me by like, forty days."

"Key word there: older," Angeles smirks, chuckling when Jamie just groans.

"You guys fight like brother and sister," Brittany comments amusedly and now they both groan.

"We _are_ brother and sister," the say in unison, making Maya laugh.

"I thought I heard voices," Santana says, joining the fray. "Hey Baby Bro. I thought you were coming with Mami and Papi."

Angeles shrugs. "They're outside."

"And you didn't help them in with the food," Santana scolds lightly and Angeles grimaces.

"Oops," he says, scrambling to hand Maya to her. "It's totally not my fault. Maya made me," he says, running back out the door, Jamie following to help.

"Idiota," Santana mumbles, pressing a kiss to Maya's hair. "And stop blaming stuff on my baby. It wasn't cute when you hit my mailbox and it's not cute now!"

"Mama," Maya says, pointing to her tummy and pouting. "I eat."

"I feel you, Pumpkin," Brittany says, rubbing her own stomach. "When are we gonna grub?"

"As soon as they bring the food inside and your parents get here," Santana says, placing a placating kiss on Brittany's lips.

She moves to pull away, but Brittany holds fast, mindful of Maya as she clamps a hand at the nape of Santana's neck, making the still chaste kiss last a little longer.

When she pulls away she grins coyly at the slightly stunned look on Santana's face.

"That should hold me over."

***o*O*o***

"_Is it recording?" Quinn asks, her face and eyes look tired but happy as she smiles._

"_Yeah, it's going," Noah's voice says, out of frame. The camera makes a little noise as he sets it down, but then he's there too, tired smile on his face as he slides down onto the floor in front of the bed._

_There, beside Quinn, is a tiny blue bundle, all wrapped up, but Elijah's face is just barely visible in the room's dim lamplight._

"_Alright, so little Eli's just gone to sleep and I'd say we have another," Noah looks up at Quinn, "what, Q, like ten minutes? – before he wakes up and goes all 'where's my milk' on our asses-" _

"_Puck," Quinn reprimands quietly, "Don't say ass. Rachel's gonna see this and you know cursing makes her flip her-…uncomfortable."_

"_On our…posteriors," he corrects, rolling his eyes, "Anyway, so we're gonna try to fit this in before my little man rejoins us."_

"_Right," Quinn says, "So we're thankful for our healthy, sometimes happy, always hungry little bundle of joy."_

"_Yes we are," Noah says with a quiet laugh. "Even though he won't let us sleep he's still my little man and I love 'im. I'm also thankful that Quinn's put up with my…butt, is butt okay?"_

"_She'll be okay with butt, I think."_

"_Well, thank s for putting up with my butt, Quinn," he looks back at the camera, "I think she likes me guys."_

"_And I guess I'm thankful you finally shaved that thing off of your head," Quinn says, chuckling a little as she brushes her fingers through his short hair. "You almost look like an adult now."_

"_That's half the battle, babe," Noah says, leaning his head into her touch as he looks her way again. "But, I don't know. I mean, Eli looks like he's got a little 'hawk action going on."_

"_No, Noah."_

"_I'm just sayin-"_

"_No."_

"_Whatever," Noah says, turning back to the camera and mouthing 'it's happening.'_

_Unbeknownst to him, Quinn mouths 'No, it's not'. _

"_Uh oh," Quinn says, "I think he's waking up."_

"_Boobie time," Noah sighs neutrally while reaching for the camera, then frowns. "This kid needs to hurry up and get on the bottle. I'm starting to lose interest in boobs."_

_Quinn stares at him. "I take back the thing I said about you becoming an adult."_

"_Nope," Noah says as Quinn gets ready for a feeding. "No takebacks."_

_He grins into the camera. "Bye guys. We love you."_

***o*O*o***

"Let us bow our heads in prayer," Mr. Lopez says, clasping his hands together and everyone else follows suit.

"Heavenly Father, we offer You our thanks on this day and many others for not only the sacrifice You made for us and all men, but for allowing us to come together as a family so that we can share in Your grace. We thank You for this glorious meal before us and for the people that provided this meal with such love and care. We thank You for our health and well-being, our successes and also our failures. And, dear Father, thank You for our latest addition to la familia, my blessed darling granddaughter Maya."

Upon hearing her name, Maya snaps to attention. "Well-o say Maya, Mama," she says, tapping Santana's arm as her grandfather continues to pray.

"I know," Santana says quietly, shushing her daughter with a smile and the girl complies obediently.

"…Grant this prayer, through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," everyone echoes, opening their eyes again.

Brittany jumps up and excitedly reaches for the carving knife.

"I've been waiting to do this all day," she grins, moving to the head of the table and in front of the turkey. "Now, what is it Mercedes told me to say? Oh yeah. Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost; Whoever eats the fastest, gets the most."

***o*O*o***

"_And we're…on," Blaine says, positioning the iCamera across from the both of them._

_They're sitting on Kurt's beloved antique couch, looking as picturesque as ever as they both smile into the camera._

"_Okay," Kurt starts, "First of all. We want to thank you all for going along with our little project. When I first came up with the idea, I thought, yes, maybe a little stupid but also kind of cute. Then I thought, good Lord, Santana's going to make so many gay jokes but she didn't and just…thanks you guys. It really meant a lot that you cooperated. Also, you may notice that Artie and Tina are missing from our little home movie, and it's for good reason."_

"_Yeah," Blaine speaks up, sounding anxious. "I think you guys sent us the wrong video."_

_Kurt laughs at his boyfriend's blush. "Blaine was red for days and Tina, let me just say, I'm gayer than the gayest man to every do, you know, gay, but my goodness woman. Artie, you are a lucky straight man."_

"_Kurt," Blaine interrupts, swallowing thickly, "Maybe we should move this along."_

"_Right," Kurt says, getting his focus back. "Okay, now, let's see. What am I thankful for? Well, I'm thankful to be here, obviously. And of course I'm thankful for my health and fabulous career. I'm thankful for my dad and step mom who have been nothing but supportive of me every step of the way. I'm thankful for you guys – for Rachel and our Broadway Brain Wars on Twifi, for Mercedes and our diva-offs, for Santana and Brittany and…just all of you. You guys are the best friends anyone could ever ask for. But, most of all, I'm thankful for my man," Kurt says fondly, turning to Blaine. "I love you so much, Blaine."_

_Blaine, who'd looked a tad bit distracted during Kurt's speech, smiles a bit. "I love you, too," he says, shifting nervously._

"_And I'm thankful for all of the same stuff you said…all of it. But, hopefully, I'll be thankful to one day call you my husband."_

_Kurt gasps, completely caught off-guard as his hands fly to his mouth._

_Blaine, finally at ease, smiles warmly and then gets down on one knee._

"_Oh my God," Kurt whispers._

"_I wanted to do this in front of everyone and was trying to get together a time when we could do it and when you mentioned this video project I knew it must be fate or something," Blaine says, pulling Kurt's hands away from his face and taking them in his own. _

"_Oh…my God," Kurt repeats._

"_Wow, I'm really nervous," Blaine says shakily, laughing at himself. "I had this whole speech prepared, but all I can remember right now is the punch line. You don't mind if we just skip to that bit, do you?"_

"_OhmyGod."_

_Blaine laughs again, squeezing Kurt's hands tighter. "Kurt, you're the absolute, number one, best thing in my life. You make me so unbelievably happy and I want to spend the end of my days doing the same for you. I hope you'll let me try. So," Blaine takes a deep breath and lets go of Kurt's hand to reach into his sweater pocket, pulling out a simple ring with a stone so bright, it glimmers in the room's light, "Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, will you marry me?"_

_Kurt nods, unable to breathe._

_He nods again and again and again, his whole body pitching forward until he finally manages to say it. "Yes," he whispers, his eyes filled to the brim._

_Blaine smiles even though his eyes start to fill up too, fingers trembling as they try to slide the band up Kurt's finger but he's having very little luck. "Jeez, I can't-"_

"_Oh, screw the ring," Kurt says, taking Blaine's face in his hands and crashing their mouths together, the force of it rocking Blaine back on his haunches._

Brittany presses rewind.

"You want to see it again?" Santana laughs, her back pressed against Brittany's chest and Maya curled up on her torso, sleeping soundly.

They're lying on their couch, relaxing after being stuffed to the brim with turkey and tamales and dressing and casseroles and pie.

Lots and lots of pie.

Brittany sighs, leaning her chin onto the crown of Santana's head as she starts the video at Kurt's ramble about Artie and Tina. "It's just so romantical."

Santana grabs Brittany's left hand, her fingers playing with the wedding band there for a moment before she lifts it to her mouth, kissing Brittany's palm gently, before threading their fingers together.

"I guess you're right," she says quietly, relaxing further into Brittany.

Brittany sets the remote down and wraps her arms more securely around her wife, leaning down until she can find her ear. "I'm really thankful to have you in my life, Santana," she murmurs, kissing Santana's earlobe.

"I'm thankful for you, too, Britt," Santana breathes, squeezing her hand tighter.


End file.
